I Imagine A Great Deal

I have nothing to write. Usually, when this happens, I try to think of something to bitch about or some little known fact about my life that I can elaborate on. But when you’ve been doing this for as long as I have, you run out of little known facts. And in terms of bitching about something—I’m sick of bitching right now. So, since I have nothing to write about, I will write about nothing.

Nothing is also what the writers of Seinfeld wrote about. They apparently did quite a good job of writing about nothing, if one is judge by the success of their show. I was never a big fan of Seinfeld. In fact, the only episode I believe I have ever watched all the way through was the finale, which sucked.

I am a big fan of Star Wars, which we’ve spoken about recently. I have this urge to see Episode III again before it leaves theaters, but every time I’ve seen it so far it has made me depressed. As if I haven’t had twenty-something years to get used to the fact that Anakin is going to become Darth Vader.

MaryAnn’s husband, Scott, has the same Darth Vader figure-holder thingy that I have, except that his figures are still in it and my figures are in a cardboard box.

Or else I’m imagining this and he doesn’t like Star Wars at all. That’s quite possible. I imagine a great deal in my life.